A lot good things could happen to you if you were one of the few Japanese to
speak fluent English in the area where you live.
One time, for example, George Lucas and Francis Coppola came to visit the movie
director Akira Kurosawa who was filming on location outside of Oita. A large
entourage was expected and there was a shortage of interpreters. Naturally, I
volunteered but the best jobs (such as interpreting for Lucas himself) was
already taken so I dropped the deal.
Another example is the time the government paid for my trip to Tokyo where I
really didn't do anything except that I took the opportunity to shag a couple
The Ministry of Education had just started another one of those
internationalization schemes in which students from other countries were
invited to study in Japan for short periods of time and meet some Japanese
students. The whole thing was a scam designed to showcase how enlightened the
Japanese government was, so the students were chosen in advance and briefed on
how they were supposed to behave. In exchange for our cooperation, we got a
free round trip ticket to Tokyo where we were to meet some students from
The Japanese students were chosen from all over the country and we gathered in
Tokyo one day before the Malaysians for our briefing. That night, in order to
get to know each other better, we all hit the town. After knocking back some
chu-hai, we all drunkenly moved on to a niji-kai at another bar.
There were prettier girls in the group, but I chose the one who seemed most
likely to go down and talked to her as we walked. She was tall and slender and
somewhat exotic looking. I walked deliberately slowly so as to create a little
distance with the rest of the crowd, and when we happened by a love hotel, I
whispered "Hey, let's lose'em" and she meekly nodded in agreement.
It was really much too easy.
But she was far from the main story.
The next morning we were at the lobby of a conference hall in Akasaka where we
waited for the Malaysians to arrive. While there, us rural kids were joined by
some students who lived in Tokyo. They had already received their briefing so
we did not meet them the day before.
One of them caught my eye, but not before I caught hers (or so she told me
later). When I noticed her, she was sitting in front of me on the couch across
the coffee table. I had no idea how she got there or when. I was still hazy
from the intense multi-orgasmic shagging. To this day, I believe that the
success that followed was largely due to the emboldening effect of emptied
I had just entered medical school and had only begun to crawl out of my high
school geekdom. I would go out to town every night and try to get laid. When I failed, I would give the full report to my high school buddy, who was a master pickup artist, and ask him what I did wrong.
One time, I met a girl in a bar and talked to her until closing time. Then I
walked her home, but when I got to her doorstep I ran out of things to say. I
was hopelessly stuck so I said good night and left. The next day I asked my
buddy what I could have done in such a situation. He said, "Tell her you are
thirsty and ask if you can come in for a glass of water. No girl will ever deny
you a glass of water." That was my level of competence at that time.
So there I was, sitting in the lobby of the expensively posh Koujimachi Kaikan
with a bunch of multilingual gaijin wannabes drafted for service by the
Japanese Society for the Promotion of Snobbish Students. It took a few minutes
for me to register the pretty girl sitting in front of me, and another few
minutes to fully appreciate how gorgeous she was. She was coming into focus
She was the sort of girl who would have been used to passers-by doing double
takes at her with gaping mouths. If she sat directly in front of someone, she
certainly would have expected him to snap to attention. On any other day, I
would have gone head over heels to please her.
"Hello," she finally said.
"Oh, hi" I said, acknowledging her for the first time. I immediately drifted
away. I think I was mentally humming to myself in dreamy good mood.br>
"Are you here with the Society?" She tried again.
"Yeah, all expenses paid." I said non-commitedly.
"Where are you from?"
"Uh, ... Oita." I had to fight to get my mind out of the clouds.
"Excuse me, did you people have a party last night?" she said, trying to find a
"Yeah, drank till twelve"
"That's not so late." She protested.
"No." I said. On this, the narcotic effect of the hungry pussy came back to me
and I began drifting again in the residue of sexual euphoria.
"So do you participate in these activities often?" At this point she began
crossing her legs and making poses that, at any other time, would have
electrocuted me. They had no effect. I had last eaten pussy less than two hours
"First time." I said. I detachedly admired how nice her legs were.
"Me too," she said, putting her elbow on her crossed knee and supporting her
chin on her fingers with a radiant smile that said "This oughta kill ya!"
"Uh-huh" I said in what was almost a sigh of languid happiness.
"I think you are very handsome." She had discarded the scalpel and now she was
attacking with a sledgehammer.
"Thank you." I said. But she reminded me of the girl who said the same thing
earlier that morning, sending me on another space trip into the zero-gravity
zone. So when I said, "You are very pretty, too" it was almost a polite after
"Oh, here come the Malaysians" someone said. And the conversation was cut off.
We were already briefed that most Malaysians are Muslims and that they had a
strict code against sex. So shagging one was out of the question although some
of them were very good looking.
Each Malaysian was arranged to sit next to a Japanese student "to enhance
communication", and then we were all told to shut up and forced to listen to
irrelevant bureaucratic lectures for about six hours.
I was seated next to a friendly Malaysian girl. We both thought the lectures
were boring and we soon started passing notes. She was most interested in the
sex life of non-Muslim youths.
"Do you have illicit extra-marital sexual affairs?"
"No. Absolutely not."
In time, my head began to clear up and I wondered if I had screwed it up with
the Tokyo girl.
All the activities that we had with the Malaysians were conducted in the
English language. This was my element. If there was anything I excelled in, I excelled in English and eloquence; two things that are not highly appreciated in most parts of Japan. But given the right situation, I could switch from geek to Charisma-man faster than Clark Kent could find a phone booth.
Once the lectures were over and we were free to mingle, I quickly took the
center ring, introducing my brand new acquaintances to other brand new
acquaintances. I had practically memorized the World Book Encyclopedia during
junior high school because I had little else in English to read. So I could
explain instantly on almost any topic. I was suddenly The Interesting Person.
This played well with all the girls present. This kind of event attracts gaijin
wannabes and cosmopolitan wannabes so there is really nothing better in this
situation than to be a fluent English speaker who actually has something to
say. The Tokyo girl was quite impressed. I was not paying any attention to her
any more because I had written her off as a missed opportunity, which appealed
to her all the more.
In the two days we spent with the Malaysians, I talked with the Tokyo girl
several times. She was nineteen years old, smart, intelligent and very active.
She spoke English, French and Russian as well as Japanese and would eventually
go on to rake in more degrees than a thermostat. We found that we had some
common interests. We liked the same kind of music. And she thought I was the
first person to appreciate her for her brains more than her tits.
When the two days were over and we were released, the girl asked me if I was
staying in Tokyo any longer. The return ticket would not be expired for another
day and some of the Malaysian boys offered to put me up in their hotel room so
I said I will stay another day. She suggested we meet in Shinjuku the next
morning and she would spend the day showing me the sights.
The "sights" included a love hotel. I never could have found one without her
but I really didn't have to do anything. She ran the whole show. She was a
sight to see but even better in bed. Better still when she was fulfilled. There
really is nothing like a perfect naked body lying limply next to you and lazily
stroking your hair.
When I got backed to Oita, we stayed in touch and we dated on and off for the
next three years. She would give me two-hour telephone calls over long distance
and she always said that she loved me. She never believed that I was not a
super stud with an army of girls constantly chasing me at my heels.